The Martian King: The Slave Planet II Read online

  The Martian King: The Slave Planet II

  The Slave Planet, Volume 2

  Seven Steps

  Published by Seven Steps, 2016.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  THE MARTIAN KING: THE SLAVE PLANET II

  First edition. November 12, 2016.

  Copyright © 2016 Seven Steps.

  ISBN: 978-1536536287

  Written by Seven Steps.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Also by Seven Steps

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42

  CHAPTER 43

  CHAPTER 44

  CHAPTER 45

  EPILOGUE

  Also by Seven Steps

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  About the Author

  Also by Seven Steps

  Science Fiction Romances

  The Slave Planet

  The Martian King: The Slave Planet 2

  Night of the Broken Moon (Two Slave Planet Companion Short Stories)

  The Escape (A Slave Planet Prequel)

  Thrillers

  Before I Wake

  Awaken

  Contemporary Romance

  The Last Rock King

  Peace in the Storm

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  CHAPTER 1

  Nadira purred as Kiln placed heated kisses along the column of her throat, his strong hands pulling her closer. She wound her arms around his neck, tilting her head slightly so he could reach the spot where her throat met her shoulder.

  “Tell me again,” he whispered. The bedroom was dark, lit only by the light that peeked from beneath the drawn curtains, and the soft yellow glow of the metal orbs that slightly protruded from their chests.

  “I love you.”

  “Again.”

  He moved to the other side of her neck, attending the soft, brown skin there. She ran her hands through his thick blond hair, smoothing it away from his face. He smelled of the Zenithian grass that they’d walked through earlier, a mixture of lavender and his trademark vanilla scented soap.

  He smells like home.

  Pulling away from their kiss, Nadira touched her forehead with his.

  “I love you.”

  He grinned, the warmth of his smile melting her heart.

  “Aren’t you going to tell me?” She teased.

  He pretended to frown, and lifted his lips to hover over hers.

  “No.”

  He kissed her softly, capturing her scoff with his mouth.

  “I don’t love you.”

  She pulled away, her smile wavering.

  “I worship you.”

  He slid his hand behind her neck, pulling her off the pillow to meet his lips.

  Suddenly, the door flew open, and two robe covered men ran into the room. Before she could speak, they raised a weapon, aimed it at Kiln, and pulled the trigger.

  A hiss.

  Kiln’s gasp.

  She watched in horror as a dripping needle violently pierced Kiln’s neck. He made a strangled sound, grabbed at his throat, and fell from atop her, collapsing onto the bed where his body twisted and convulsed. His wide, blue eyes searched the darkness for her.

  “Nadira,” he choked out. “Run.”

  “Kiln!” She threw herself on top of him, pulled the needle from his neck and hurled it across the room. Her pulse banged in her ears, her hands shook as she pushed the hair out of her lover’s eyes.

  “Kiln. Kiln talk to me!”

  His eyes looked glazed, far away. He was fading. The only man she’d ever loved was fading.

  This can’t be happening!

  Two hands grabbed her legs, flipped her onto her back, and hoisted her onto a robed shoulder.

  “Kiln!”

  He reached for her, fire briefly flickering in his palm before extinguishing in a slip of twirling smoke.

  For a moment, she imagined that his great strength would overcome the poison that pumped through his veins, dousing the fire that heated his core. Instead, his large hand dropped and his head rolled back onto the pillow. The bed that they had so passionately shared only moments ago now held his limp form, still powerful, but without the pulse of life that so enraptured her.

  Kiln was gone.

  The wail started in her gut, and rose into her throat before she realized it, before she had time to understand the magnitude of what her treacherous eyes showed her. A moment before the scream passed her lips, a dirty hand covered her mouth, preventing its release.

  “Quiet you.”

  Kiln was no longer there to protect her. She was exposed and at the mercy of the men who dragged her beloved from the bed – their bed - and dumped him onto the floor as if he were nothing more than trash. Her mind struggled to wrap itself around what was happening. Kiln had been by her side since they were children. She couldn’t remember a world without him in it. And now, he was gone.

  Her heart imploded, bursting from the misery, the horror, the absolute sadness of Kiln’s passing. Her lungs no longer pumped air to her miserable body. The room began to tilt.

  Mother Goddess, take me too. Don’t let him be alone. Take me too!

  “Careful with that one,” the man who held her whispered. “If he’s hurt, the whole plan is ruined.”

  In the darkness, she could only make out his heavy robe and matching cap.

  “I’m always careful,” his companion snapped, his voice a low, lethal rumble in the room.

  Careful?

  The pain that clouded her mind began to clear.

  Careful. That means Kiln’s alive. They’re taking him alive!

  As if resurrected by the news, her lungs took in a breath. Her heart pumped wildly.

  Kiln was alive. There was hope. There was a reason to live another day.

  She pushed against the kidnapper with her knees, squirmed to release herself from his grip, but he was too strong, and held her fast. Her mind raced, trying to come up with a way out of this room, a way to raise the alarm, to save them both.

  Then she remembered.

  The toma.

  Her attention quickly focused on the blue jewel that sat in the middle of her chest. The jewel that gave her instant control of a planet’s atmosphere. The jewel that was now her only
means of salvation.

  Looking to the ceiling, she focused on the unseen clouds above. In her mind’s eye, she saw a storm cloud form, black and grim. A brief roll of thunder shook the room, before lightning split the sky and shattered the far window, the spraying glass only slightly muted by the heavy curtains.

  Nadira’s hands rose to block her face from the assault.

  The man holding her gasped and stepped back.

  “What the-”

  “Stick her already!” His companion commanded.

  As quickly as the words were said, she felt a poignant stab in her rear end.

  Her kidnapper’s beard tickled the side of her face, “Relax there, girlie. We’ve still got a long road ahead.”

  Hot liquid hastily moved through her hips, back, and shoulders, paralyzing her as it went. When it reached her chest, she felt it surround her toma, cutting her off from its power. She tried to focus on the sky again, tried to call something, anything to her. But her toma - like her beloved - was unresponsive.

  Patting down the panic that threatened to rise within her, she tried to focus, tried to take a mental picture of the man who held her, unsure if she would be alive long enough to make use of it. She could only make out his long, navy blue robe, long toed bare feet, and his beard that tickled her. He smelled like sulfur and smoke.

  “Put her down and help me put him in the bag,” the companion said.

  “How are we going to get them both out of here now? There will be a crowd outside this door any minute.”

  “Put him in the bag and drag him out. I’ll strap the girl under my robe and carry her that way.”

  “What if the guard notices?”

  “You should have thought about that when you were forgetting to stick her.”

  “Why can’t we stash her somewhere, carry him out, then come back for her later?”

  “The deal was that we have to take them both together. If we can’t get back, then Boikis will have our necks. We take them both out now.”

  The liquid reached Nadira’s head, clouding her mind.

  What deal?

  As Nadira’s eyes closed, one thought permeated her fading consciousness.

  Where are they taking us?

  CHAPTER 2

  Etree tried not to squirm as a bead of sweat ran down the middle of his back. He forced his mind to relax, to think about the future.

  Stay calm and you’ll be home in time for war games.

  Underneath his robe, the Venian woman was bound hand and foot, her body wrapped around his torso. Her heat warmed him to the point of discomfort.

  Just think of what will happen when you get home. You’ll be a hero. Boikis will give you a big pay, your very own women’s barracks, maybe even your own planet when the time comes.

  The thought of his future rewards propelled him forward. He glanced at Namic, who grunted as he dragged a large, heavy bag behind him.

  A few ambassadors peeked their heads out of their rooms, trying to determine the source of the earlier explosion. Several more ventured into the hallway, heading in the direction of Kiln and Nadira’s room, muttering questions to themselves in their own languages.

  Pulling the hoods of their robes over their heads, the men willed themselves to walk slowly, to blend into the newly formed crowd, to stay close to the wood paneled walls of the hallway. Walls that reflected the enormous tree that held this palace.

  Several ambassadors looked at them with disinterest as they passed with their unusually large luggage.

  Etree felt a rush of adrenaline course through him. His hands shook with the sudden force of it. He sunk his head deeper into his hood and took in a deep breath.

  Don’t run. Stay calm and blend in.

  As more and more ambassadors headed into the hall, a green haired Zenithian appeared, calling for order as it fluttered its clear wings above the increasingly dense wave of curious ambassadors, all struggling to glimpse whatever caused the excitement.

  A tickle formed in the back of Etree’s throat. He coughed shortly and waddled a bit in a futile effort to readjust Nadira’s dead weight around his torso.

  She’s getting heavier with every step.

  He wiped his sweat soaked forehead with his sleeve and glanced back at Namic.

  Dripping with perspiration, Namic continued to drag his heavy load along the rough wooden floor. He made eye contact with Etree, then looked back at the Zenithian trying to bring the crowd of ambassadors to order.

  Etree nodded, and touched his cap, pressing it more closely to his head.

  The caps that Etree and Namic wore – Blockers – were custom made for planet Zenith. The Zenithians were mentally tuned into the planet, able to read the minds of every ambassador invited to land in its purple grass. The caps blocked all outgoing brain waves, making the wearer virtually undetectable to the Zenithian’s mind reading.

  They arrived at the end of the hall, and Etree let out a hot breath.

  Almost there.

  They quickly made their way through the lobby and toward the cloud that they would ride to freedom.

  “Excuse me.”

  Etree shuttered a reflex to pull his out his weapon, kill the keeper of the voice, and flee.

  He plastered a calm smile on his face and turned around.

  The black haired, three-eyed Zenithian was looking at the glistening Namic, an innocent smile stretching his almost human-like face.

  “Can I help you with that bag?” It asked.

  “No, thank you,” Namic replied.

  “It looks heavy,” it said, its wide, lipless mouth turning down into a frown. “Here, let me help you to the cloud.”

  With no further request, the Zenithian raised its arms, raising the heavy bag in the air with the power of its third eye.

  Etree avoided Namic’s wide eyed gawk, instead keeping his eyes on the Zenithian.

  “Thank you for your assistance,” he said, hoping that the shakiness in his voice didn’t show. He turned his back, willing Namic to be calm, and walked out of the tower and into the bright Zenithian sunshine as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

  They pulled off their hoods, and patted down their blockers as the Zenithian came up beside him, hovering the bag closely behind.

  “I am called Cam,” it said.

  Is it a male? Etree wondered. It was almost impossible to tell Zenithians apart by their features. One had to look at their clothes. This one wore pants and a banner across its chest in lieu of a shirt.

  “I am ambassador Zanic,” Etree lied. Tall, ebony skinned, with sharp, dark eyes and short, wiry salt and pepper hair, Etree tried to think of what planet ambassador Zanic might be from.

  “Martian, I presume?” The Zenithian asked.

  Etree stopped short, and stared at Cam, the warm, humid air freezing in his chest.

  How does it know?

  He had intended on lying, but now... He placed a shaky hand on his head to pat down his Blocker.

  It’s not working.

  Panic pumped through his racing heart.

  It must be broken.

  He felt for his weapon. Blood rushed in his ears so loudly that he almost didn’t hear when Cam spoke again.

  “I am very good with accents, and your’s is quite pronounced. You would be amazed to know that each planet has its own accent. Though the languages may be different on the planet, the accent is very detectable.”

  Etree let out a harsh breath, and laughed shortly at the madness of it all.

  The Zenithian joined in with their chuckles.

  “I am a linguist by hobby, not by trade.” Cam suddenly broke out in a fit of giggles, as if he’d said the funniest thing in the world.

  Etree looked at Namic. Then man was tall, with lean muscles over a rail thin frame, dark wild hair and a brown beard. His wide eyes had begun to shrink back down to their normal size, and his hand moved away from the weapon hidden in his sleeve.

  Etree nodded to him, then to the Zenithian, and picked up his pace.


  Time to get out of this tree.

  “You Martians and your odd sense of humor,” Cam smiled.

  Idiot.

  “Yes, we Martians are famous for our humor.”

  Conversation halted as they moved through a mass of ambassadors and Zenithians in the Great Tree’s courtyard. The crowd seemed to churn around them, a swirl of bodies from all over the universe. From small, flying balls of light, to what seemed to be giant, walking trees. From red tubes that slid across the ground, to men with fangs and bat-like wings. The residents of thousands of habituated planets sent their ambassadors to Magistrate Embrya’s tree palace to seek her audience and, at the moment, they all seemed to be in the courtyard.

  When they finally made it through the crush, and arrived where the cloud would carry them from the top of the tree to the ground, Cam turned to the Martian men again.

  “I hope you’ve enjoyed your stay on Zenith.”

  It placed the bag gently in the middle of a newly formed cloud.

  “We have enjoyed it tremendously,” Etree said, stepping a foot onto the cloud.

  “Please, have a safe journey home,” Cam said with a wave.

  Namic, red faced from exertions, gave a grand flourish of a bow, and smiled up at him.

  As the cloud descended through the fog that surrounded the Great Tree, they could see Cam’s smile fade into a troubled frown. His waving hand dropped. Then, he was gone.

  Etree and Namic looked at each other. Then they looked at the bag.

  The zipper was half way down, with Kiln’s slack face clearly visible.

  Namic looked back up at Etree, fear in his eyes.

  “How did it get opened?” Namic cried, desperately trying to shove Kiln’s face deeper into the bag and rezip it.

  Etree’s fear fueled temper exploded. “I don’t know, you idiot! I wasn’t the one who was in charge of the bag. You were!”

  “Do you think that they saw it?”

  Etree didn’t respond, only stared at Namic as if he had sprouted wings.

  “What? What is it?”

  “Where is your Blocker?”

  Namic felt the top of his head, his mouth turning down into a frown.

  The cap was gone.

  “I must’ve lost it when I bowed,” he whispered.

  Etree swore colorfully, and turned from Namic’s capless, sweaty head.